


Welcome to the Companions

by AbleG



Series: The Dragonborn Comes [8]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Ceremonies, M/M, betrayal! according to Vilkas, questions about werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 18:19:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15913695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbleG/pseuds/AbleG
Summary: Airgiod returns victorious from his trial and is accepted as a full member of the Companions, much to Vilkas's annoyance. As though that weren't enough for him, Vilkas finds that Airgiod has learned the Companions' most dangerous secret. Vilkas feels like he has no choice but to get Kodlak involved to stop this newcomer from sending them all into ruin.





	Welcome to the Companions

**Author's Note:**

> I'm REALLY losing track of what part this is of the series. Thankfully, this page should remind us all...
> 
> God guys I hated this chapter. I don't even think it's that bad of a chapter, I just spent a lot of time making decisions that didn't work so I had to rewrite it like 5 times. It got so hacked up that I had to call in reinforcements to help me edit. But it's finally done and I can finally upload it and move on. WOO!!

Vilkas was standing watch at the wall near the city gate, his eyes glued to the horizon where Farkas and the whelp had disappeared to for the proving. He was disgusted by the thought that The Circle had agreed to let the trial be taken so soon. That was a different matter for him to brood on for another time. For now, he was content to sulk over the fact that, if the whelp failed miserably as he expected him to do, Farkas could potentially lose his life. If that happened, Vilkas would not hesitate to hew the bastard’s head from his shoulders. He waited for a sign of their return, or at least Farkas’s return. That would be ideal. Farkas would come back to Jorrvaskr to report that the whelp had fled in fear, or had died in battle and would no longer be a burden to anyone among them.

Many of the Companions had asserted that there was no need for Vilkas to stand watch, as Farkas was sure to report whether or not the mission had been a success himself. Vilkas ignored them and stood guard anyway. It wasn’t as though Vilkas had anything else to do or think about. He had tried to do other things, such as advising the younger Companions or practicing in the courtyard with his sword, but his mind was constantly distracted by Farkas’s absence. 

The sun was getting low in the sky now. Even with Vilkas factoring in Airgiod’s idiocy, the duo were late according to Vilkas’s general calculations. At what point would Kodlak try to organize a second party to make the journey to Dustman’s Cairn for the fragment, and to find the missing men? Not soon enough, Vilkas was certain. Despite his brooding, he eventually spotted two figures coming back across the valley. They had only just appeared over the other side of a hill, but there seemed to be nothing slowing their return. He scowled, knowing that this meant they had been successful. It was beyond infuriating to think that this absolute stranger had somehow worked his way into their ranks and come so far in such a short amount of time. To make matters even worse, he was allowed to do it. He had Kodlak’s favor. Whenever Vilkas inquired about his strange favoritism towards Airgiod, the old man would change the subject or refuse to answer at all. That was answer enough for Vilkas.

Vilkas skulked back to Jorrvaskr, ignoring the raised eyebrows he received from Skjor and Aela. He knew they could tell from his behavior that Farkas and Airgiod were returning with the fragment in their possession, and he didn’t want to linger so they would have time to heckle him over it. He marched down the stairs, and into his room. He passed Kodlak as he went, not bothering to grace him with a look as the old man smiled in greeting. He didn’t wish to be stopped by Kodlak either. A lecture would only put him even more on edge. He wasn’t some child that needed to be scolded for his foul behavior. He knew what was now expected of him. He would have to be courteous to Airgiod, as he had completed his trail. However, he did not have to enjoy it.

 

The evening sun burned gold in the sky as The Circle stood in their places in the training yard as tradition dictated. Vilkas had done his best to show up as late for the ceremony as he could get away with, yet no one voiced any disapproval. He had been “inconveniently” busy with other thing in Whiterun. Questioning guards about anything suspicious they had seen on rounds, collecting contracts for the Companions, and speaking with the locals took a large chunk of Vilkas’s time. He was well within his rights to claim that he had simply lost track of time once he returned to Jorrvaskr. By the time he had casually made his way back, the other members of the Circle had gathered, and so had Airgiod. They were all standing in the courtyard below the Skyforge, as though waiting for Vilkas to finally arive. Vilkas played innocent as soon as he saw Kodlak shoot him a disapproving frown. He knew the old man expected better of him.

Vilkas took his place beside Farkas anyway, ignoring the look he had been given by Kodlak. He knew that the old man would not bother to chastise him yet, if at all. It would be disrespectful to the Newblood to make him wait longer for the ceremony to start. Farkas only glanced questioningly at Vilkas once he took his spot. Vilkas offered a small shrug, which was enough of an answer to his brother’s silent question. Farkas would not press him for answers. Farkas was more likely to forget that Vilkas had arrived late, anyway. Farkas awkwardly adjusted his arm within the sling he once again wore as a result of his journey with Airgiod. Though Vilkas knew it was Farkas who had lied about the condition of his arm to begin with, he preferred to rest the blame with Airgiod. Had he been a better Shield-Brother, Farkas would not have gotten injured at all. 

Vilkas watched contemptuously as the ceremony finally began. Airgiod stepped forward to be addressed by the Circle at last. Vilkas had a difficult time holding back a sneer; the younger nord was struggling to hide his excitement and pride behind a mask of solemnity, and he could barely stand himself still. Airgiod had cleaned himself of dust, blood, and cobwebs as soon as he had returned to Jorrvaskr, so at least he was presentable. The only thing out of place was his hair, but that was an inevitable result of the bandages that were wrapped around his brow. Vilkas had not expressed any concern for Airgiod’s wound, even though he had been the one called upon to fetch the bandages that were tied around Airgiod’s head.

Suddenly,Kodlak cleared his throat and spoke with a loud, clear voice. The ceremony was finally beginning. “Brothers and sisters of the Circle, today we welcome a new soul into our mortal fold. This man has endured, has challenged, and has shown his valor. Who will speak for him?”

 

Kodlak’s question, though rehearsed and not unheard to Vilkas before this day, left a sour taste in his mouth. He knew who would offer the answer, and it left him feeling betrayed to some small degree.

“I stand witness to the courage of the soul before us.” Farkas said loudly, stepping forth from where he had previously stood to now take his place beside Airgiod. Vilkas ignored the look the two of them exchanged as Farkas began his testimony in Airgiod’s behalf. Vilkas swallowed the frustration building in his chest at Farkas’s flawless reply. The fact that Farkas had practiced and made sure he could remember his part made it all the worse. 

“Would you raise your shielf in his defence?” Kodlak asked in the same loud, commanding tone.

Without hesitation, Farkas answered again. “I would stand at his back, that the world might never overtake us.”

“And would you raise your sword in his honor?” Kodlak continued.

“It stands ready to meet the blood of his foes.” Farkas nodded solemnly. Vilkas had thought that Farkas would have forgotten a word or skipped an answer by now. He had done no such thing.

“And would you raise a mug in his name?” Kodlak asked the final question.

“I would lead the song of triumph as our mead hall reveled in his stories.” Farkas finished, stepping back in line. From the look on Farkas’s face and the simple fact that he hadn’t forgotten any of the ancient words, Vilkas had a sinking suspicion that Farkas meant every word he had spoken.

“Then the Judgement of this circle is complete. His heart beats with fury and courage that have united the Companions since the days of the distant green summers. Let it beat with ours, that the mountains may echo and our enemies may tremble at the call!” Kodlak announced. He opened his arms wide to the rest of the Circle to await their final, cumulative response.

_”It shall be so.”_

“It shall be so…” Vilkas echoed a beat behind the others, ice in his voice. 

It was over. Airgiod was one of them now, and there was no way to avoid that awful truth. The other members of the Circle dispersed. Aela nodded approvingly to Airgiod, Skjor patted him on the shoulder heavily as he passed. Farkas bared his teeth in a grin. Vilkas walked passed Airgiod without a single word or a look. He did not intend to show any warmth towards their newest recruit. In Vilkas’s eyes, it was hardly deserved.

Despite that, Airgiod was unfortunately persistent. As Vilkas tried to walk away, he heard footsteps rushing after him.

“Vilkas, wait!” Airgiod called. “I had a question for you.”

Vilkas nearly kept walking, but he decided it would be not only rude but dishonorable to treat the newest member of the Companions in such a way. He paused at the steps to Jorrvaskr and waited impatiently for Airgiod to catch him.

“Make it quick. I have important matters to attend to yet today. The world doesn’t stop just because you received an honor.” Vilkas said, keeping his tone short and cold. He didn’t make eye contact with Airgiod, either. He barely bothered to incline his head in the man’s direction. He was uncertain whether or not he could remain civil if he did.

“Is it true that you and the other Companions are werewolves?” Airgiod asked with the lightest and most amicable of tones, as though this was a topic that was discussed quite often in public and with no consequences.

Vilkas felt his stop and drop into his stomach. How in the name of Ysmir himself did Airgiod know their secret? There was no way he could have found out. The Circle was sworn to secrecy. It was a necessity for their lycanthropy to remain unknown, as it could lead to their deaths. Though they retained their own minds when they transformed and could fight back their urges for blood, there were surely those who would not see their ability in such a shade of gray. Only the trusted members of the Circle were allowed to know this information simply because they could not risk the blind panic that would certainly follow, and the culling of the Companions that would come after. To think that this fool standing beside Vilkas not only knew they were werewolves, but he was asking Vilkas about it openly in broad daylight was more than Vilkas’s already frayed nerves to handle.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Vilkas answered quickly. He tried to keep his face calm and unmoving. Any reaction at all would betray the truth.

Airgiod appeared to be fooled. He looked confused for a moment, then spoke again. “But when Farkas and I were retrieving the lost piece of Wuuthrad, we were attacked by werewolf hunters and Farkas transformed-”

Vilkas grabbed Airgiod by the neck of his armor, backing him up and shoving his back against one of the carved support pillars of the awning. Airgiod was too stunned to fight back; he stumbled back easily and stared at Vilkas in alarm. Whatever he was planning to say in his own defence, it died on his lips as he saw the dangerous look in Vilkas’s eye. Airgiod should not have spoken so freely. He should have known that Vilkas would leap to protect his brother with his teeth bared. 

“Do you want all of Whiterun to hear you, fool?” Vilkas hissed through clenched teeth, using his forearm to press against Airgiod’s windpipe in case the man tried to pull away before he was finished with his threat. Though Airgiod was taller than he, Vilkas knew that the younger man would continue to submit out of surprise and fear.

“I don’t know what you think you saw in the cairn, but if I were you, I’d hold my tongue.” Vilkas said, his voice low like a growl. With a final threatening shove to Airgiod’s throat, Vilkas threw him aside. Airgiod nearly fell to the ground, coughing and rubbing his sore neck. Vilkas met his wounded look with a frigid glare of his own. He trusted that Airgiod understood his point. Brothers in the Companions they now may be, but Vilkas would not allow any threat to the Companions to live.

As Vilkas returned to Jorrvaskr without Airgiod, a fear gripped him. Was he really going to leave Airgiod with nothing but a threat and hope that the man would keep his silence? It would only take one slip of the tongue while drunk or distracted, and the Vigilant of Stendarr or the Silver Hand would be right at the Companions’ doorstep with the people of Whiterun egging them on. He refused to trust Airgiod alone. He swiftly changed his path from his room to Kodlak’s quarters. His urgent pace increased with every step. By the time Vilkas found the Harbinger in his study, he was jogging and had to use the doorframe to slow himself.

Kodlak had just come down the stairs from the ceremony. Vilkas saw him settling down at his table with a small pile of old books and his journal. Kodlak was an intelligent man and a wise counselor, but Vilkas had never known him to spend his time writing or reading. At least, not to the degree to which he had been doing so lately.

Usually, it concerned Vilkas to see such a change come over the old man. It made him anxious, and Kodlak could tell. Kodlak often left these items out of Vilkas’s line of vision. Vilkas never knew if it was Kodlak’s way of protecting Vilkas’s mind from unrest, or if there was another reason why Kodlak would hide what he was reading and writing. Now, it was of little concern to the younger Companion, which put Kodlak at ease. Vilkas had been so swift in his approach that Kodlak hadn’t heard him coming until he was at the door.

“Vilkas? What’s troubling you?” Kodlak asked, his brow furrowing as soon as he saw the distress that Vilkas was simply incapable of hiding from him.

“Airgiod knows. He knows about the Beastblood.” Vilkas answered quickly. There was no time and little point in trying to convince Kodlak that he was unconcerned.

Kodlak’s expression changed for only an instant. It was too quick for Vilkas to read, but he knew that this was unexpected and unplanned for. He watched with some lingering impatience as Kodlak set the journal down on his desk slowly and scratched his beard as he did while deliberating. There was no point in rushing the old man. Vilkas had learned not to do that long ago when he was still quite young. He could no longer count the number of lectures he had received about being less impulsive.

“I see…” Kodlak muttered, buying himself more time as Vilkas watched him closely. “...Then I suppose I will have to speak with him about it.”

“You’re going to talk to him? But he could endanger us all-! We have enough problems with the Silver Hand becoming more hostile, must we also trust this new-blood with our biggest secret?” Vilkas asked, shocked by Kodlak’s lack of urgency.

“He is now one of us, Vilkas. He performed the Proving because he wished to be one of us. We must trust that he will not endanger his brothers and sisters in the time it takes for me to converse with him.” Kodlak said sternly, but with no intention to scold. 

Vilkas nodded slowly, knowing that Kodlak had heard his worry and had taken it seriously. He would speak with Airgiod. If Kodlak deemed him unworthy of retaining his position amongst the Companions, Vilkas would voluntarily lead whatever force they sent after Airgiod to silence him permanently. 

 

The sun was beginning to set before Kodlak had finally managed to chase off the overly obsessed Vilkas long enough for him to think. Airgiod knew about the Circle and how they were all werewolves. How he had found out was of little concern, though Kodlak was sure he had an explanation anyway. Airgiod had gone off on his trial with Farkas, and Farkas traditionally lacked the forethought to be concerned about his actions, or the hindsight to see the consequences. He was mostly certain that Farkas had somehow revealed the secret, though he was sure the boy had meant well. Farkas was loyal and would never do anything to endanger the Companions in any way. Like Vilkas, Farkas saw their group as his family, though he was more apt to admit to it than Vilkas.

Vilkas was always quick to act and quicker to anger. He made decisions more often that Kodlak would like on instinct and gut reaction alike rather than using his head. Luckily, Vilkas was very intelligent and his instinct was more often than not based in his knowledge. In other cases, Vilkas was level headed and strategic. Kodlak was quite proud with how he had grown. Perhaps not lately in regards to how he treated Airgiod, but in general he was.

Despite how Vilkas treated him, and despite knowing that the Circle was cursed by Hircine himself, Airgiod remained a Companion. This was what gave Kodlak hope and allowed him to take his time when thinking of how to approach the young Nord. It would have been very easy for Airgiod to simply walk away when asked to brave Dustman’s Cairn, or after discovering that a number of the Companions were monsters. However, he had stayed and accepted his position amongst the Companions happily and with pride. Kodlak did not share Vilkas’s fear that Airgiod would betray them now.

Vilkas didn’t know what Kodlak knew.

Kodlak found Airgiod still in the training yard, sitting at one of the tables and sharpening his greatsword. It was an old piece, battle-worn and stained. Unlike the Skyforge Steel that the Companions used for their weapons, the metal of this sword was cheap and tarnished easily. It was by no means a valuable weapon, but it had served Airgiod well enough so far and had saved his life in multiple occasions. Kodlak understood the fondness Airgiod held for the common weapon. The amount of care that went into the blade made Kodlak wonder who had owned it before Airgiod, for certainly Airgiod had not been the one to allow the weapon to fall into such a condition in the first place.

“It’s a lovely day…” Kodlak observed, breaking the silence and alerting Airgiod to his presence. Airgiod jumped when he saw Kodlak standing next to him. Kodlak knew that it was out of respect and not fear that Airgiod tensed whenever he was around the old Harbinger.

“Yes, for once… It’s been so windy lately, I was almost worried that the snow from the mountains might blow down on top of us…” Airgiod answered as politely as he could. Airgiod was often rather formal with Kodlak at times. The old man knew it was out of respect, though it was entirely unnecessary. Perhaps he had picked up the habit from watching Vilkas speaking with Kodlak.

Kodlak smiled at Airgiod’s light jest and saw him visibly relax when he perceived that there was no reason to remain anxious. All else aside, it was good for Airgiod to understand that Kodlak was an ally he could trust. As Harbinger, it was Kodlak’s job to counsel the other Companions. That job was made easier when the others could trust him. 

“Indeed. Perfect weather to welcome you into our fold.” Kodlak said as he took a seat next to Airgiod, who made space for him quickly.

“I just wish the welcome had been as warm as the sun was…” Airgiod said in an undertone, and Kodlak caught his meaning. Though Kodlak had little to do with Airgiod learning the ways of Jorrvaskr, it didn’t take close observation to tell how much Vilkas detested Airgiod. Kodlak wished it could be otherwise. Vilkas had grown up in a time of political unrest and war. Lacking his brother’s easy-going nature, it had taken a toll on him. Vilkas struggled to trust people, and he rarely let anyone into his heart. It was a shame, because Kodlak knew how quickly Airgiod had taken a liking to Vilkas despite his cold reception. If they could find a way to get along, Kodlak knew the two of them would make excellent shield-brothers.

“You have shown bravery and honor this day in bringing back a fragment of Companion history. You have nothing more to prove to anyone.” Kodlak reassured him. “Those who hold issue with your status will warm up to you eventually. Just give it time.”

Airgiod nodded in understanding, but didn’t offer any verbal reply. They sat in silence for a while, Airgiod returning to sharpening his sword and Kodlak allowing Airgiod to grow less tense in his presence. He wanted to have an honest conversation with the younger man, and Kodlak knew from experience that honesty came easiest when things were calm and relaxed. He did not mind waiting silently until Airgiod felt more comfortable around him.

Kodlak finally spoke after the long silence had lasted enough. “Vilkas tells me that you’ve been allowed to know some secrets before your appointed time.”

Airgiod looked up, his brow furrowed in confusion. Kodlak then saw the realisation dawn on his face, and he quickly looked back down at his sword and moved the whetstone over the metal noticeably faster than he had before.

“I’m sure I don’t know any secrets, sir.” Airgiod said, anxiety rising once again in his voice.

With this, Kodlak let out a soft sigh. He should have known that, before coming to Kodlak, Vilkas must have spoken with Airgiod. What sort of threat Vilkas had offered the younger Nord was impossible to say, but at least this was proof of Airgiod’s loyalty.

“Whatever words or sentiments Vilkas exchanged with you don’t necessarily apply to me. We can discuss things freely here, be at ease.” Kodlak encouraged him.

Apparently, one gentle nudge was all it took to get Airgiod to discuss in full. He swiftly set the whetstone aside and leaned closer to Kodlak. It was hard to tell if the Companions’ newest brother was curious out of morbid fascination, or excitement.

“So it is true, then?” Airgiod asked, his voice lowered just to be safe. “You really are werewolves?”

Kodlak was surprised, but only initially so. It was fitting that Airgiod be so eager to speak his mind. He was a young and adventurous sort with endless questions about everything under the sun. This questioning nature may one day lead him to become quite wise, if he managed to survive long enough to gather the knowledge he would need.

Kodlak nodded calmly, but added more to the explanation when he saw Airgiod’s eyes grow even wider. “Not all of us, though. Only the members of the Circle all share the blood of the beast. Some take to it more than others.”

“...Vilkas isn’t one of them, is he?” Airgiod asked. It was almost definitely more of a confirmation than a question, which surprised Kodlak. “He was defensive when I asked about it. I think I angered him even further by questioning him.”

“Well, you are half right.” Kodlak said. “Vilkas no longer thinks of our secret as a gift, but there was a time when his opinion was not nearly as strong. Now, he prefers to protect our secret rather than use it. That may be part of the reason why he became so agitated. He was worried that you might let it slip that we can take on a more beastly form at will, which would have more than just Whiterun up in arms.” 

“What about you?” Airgiod asked after a moment of reflection. Kodlak had expected more questions about Vilkas, but perhaps Airgiod was reining himself back.

Kodlak took a long while to answer, and Airgiod waited patiently. For that, he was grateful. The question Airgiod asked was complex and had an equally complicated answer. One that he was certain he should not yet reveal to Airgiod. The young man had proven to be as loyal and trustworthy as Kodlak had expected, but there were some secrets that he could not share with Airgiod. Some of these secrets he had not even trusted to the Circle. Not even to Vilkas. It was best to keep such things from Airgiod. For now. The young man needn’t share the burden that laid heavy on Kodlak’s mind. It would be best to let Airgiod believe that his greatest challenge yet would be winning Vilkas’s respect.

Kodlak finally offered Airgiod an answer that he felt suitable. “Well, I grown old. My mind turns towards the horizon. To Sovngarde. I worry that Shor won’t call an animal to glory as he would a true Nord warrior.”

“Why would that matter? If you are living your lives as honorably as you are as Companions, shouldn’t your place in Sovngarde be reserved?” Airgiod asked, looking at Kodlak carefully.

“Not necessarily.” Kodlak sighed. He wished things could be that simple. “Living as beasts draws our souls closer to the Daedric Lord Hircine. Some may prefer an eternity in his Hunting Grounds, but I crave the fellowship of Sovngarde.”

Kodlak watched as concern and deep thought replaced the excited expression on Airgiod’s face. Now the younger Nord was beginning to understand the predicament that faced the Circle and its members. Vilkas believed Airgiod slow of wit, but Kodlak knew better. He only needed someone to help focus his thoughts.

“So, you’re looking to cure yourself?” Airgiod asked with a minute’s hesitation. Kodlak was sure it was not easy to arrive to this conclusion, as lycanthropy wasn’t known to have a cure in most other occasions. Fortunately for the Companions, their curse was not the standard form. There may in fact be a way to reverse it.

“Yes, but it’s no easy matter. But you don’t need to share the worries of an old warrior. This day is to rejoice in your bravery!” Kodlak said, clapping Airgiod on the back. The younger Nord looked understandably put out by the swift change in subject, so Kodlak offered him something of a reward. “And go speak to Eorlund if you want a better weapon than what you have there. You have certainly earned it.”

Kodlak smiled to himself as he watched Airgiod get to his feet and hastily thank Kodlak before he all but sprinted up to the Skyforge, his old greatsword in hand. If nothing else, Airgiod was easy to distract. Much less prying than Vilkas. Perhaps one day, Kodlak would tell him everything. But, for now, it was suitable that he stay unburdened by such things as dreams and the afterlife. Airgiod was young, and Kodlak was not yet as old as Vignar. There was plenty of time.


End file.
